


A Life Told By Strands

by mweerden



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Memory Loss, No Smut, Prompt Fic, Reylo - Freeform, This might make you have FEELINGS, You Have Been Warned, wickedlywonderfulweekofreylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-06-11
Packaged: 2018-07-14 08:01:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7161539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mweerden/pseuds/mweerden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five times Ben Solo braids someone's hair, and one time someone braids his.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Life Told By Strands

**Author's Note:**

> This is a prompt fill for the prompt "Hair braiding", as part of KagamiSorciere's WickedlyWonderfulWeekOfReylo!
> 
> Somewhere along the way this fic turned into a huge ball of angst. I don't know what to say. I'll go put myself in a timeout.
> 
> Elywyngirlie, you're the best beta I could've wished for!! Thank you so much for sharing this experience with me <3  
> (And thank you AGAIN for coming up with a title lol)

**The first time, he is 6, and he braids his mother’s hair.**

 

Ever since he could remember, he had always loved to watch his mother braid her hair. Watch as her fingers moved delicately through her long hair, making the most intricate patterns.

His mother seemed to enjoy his fascination with it greatly. She would set him in front of a mirror, sit down next him, and start working on her hair. She would describe to him what she was doing in great detail.

These little private moments with his mother were a rarity for little Ben. They were also the only moments when the voice in the back of his head would stay blissfully silent. His constant headache would lift and he could pretend to be safe for a while.

It wouldn’t be until much later that he realized the voice stayed quiet because it was afraid of his mother. He’d come to regret not confiding in her in those moments more than anything, but as it was, he was just a little boy, not understanding all the forces swirling around him, plotting his path.

“Why don’t you try it, Benny?” his mother asks him one day. They switch roles as his mother sits in front of the mirror and he stands behind her. Occasionally she will put her hands over his, to guide his little fingers on. He beams with pride and although half her hair is almost coming loose, she proudly wears his braid the whole day.

\---

**The second time, he is 14, and he braids Poe’s hair.**

 

“I’m telling you Poe, chicks dig it.”

“Yeah I’ll bet you have to chase them away with a stick,” Poe snickers.

“You have _no_ idea,” Ben replies with a smirk. There’s something about his best friend that makes Ben so much more confident than he usually is. Poe has such an electric character, which seems to rub off on Ben.

They are discussing the final dance of the school year. Poe has had his eye on Allya for months now, but has uncharacteristically yet to make a move on her.

“Come on Poe, trust me on this,” Ben says. “What do you have to lose?”

“Well, my dignity, for one. It’s all fine for you to walk around like that Ben, people will hardly recognize you without them. But for me...”

Ben gives his friend a stern look. “Just...trust me on this okay?”

Sighing, Poe gives in. “I swear though Benny, if anyone even so much as looks at me funny, I’m taking them out.”

“Fair enough. Now sit down.”

Ben quickly works his fingers through the older boy’s hair. He settles on a subtle style that suits Poe well.

“I hate to admit it Benny,” Poe says, looking in the mirror. “But this just might work.”

Poe leaves for the dance. Ben doesn’t. He can’t really dance; his long limbs keep him from moving gracefully, and he’s too awkward to have a lot of friends anyway. Sure, there’s Poe, but Poe is always swamped by admirers. Ben doesn’t mind, he doesn’t really like attention.

This time though, he sneaks through the hallway towards the mess hall where the dance is held. He just needs to see how Poe is doing with his new hairdo.

 Keeping to the shadows, he spots Poe instantly. As usual a gathering of people surrounds him, but Ben spots Allya there as well. She all but hangs on Poe’s lips.

 _Another job well done_ , Ben thinks with a smile as he slinks back to his room.

He’ll get the whole story in the morning.

\---

**The third time, he’s 30, and he braids his own hair.**

 

He hasn’t been Ben for a long time now. He can’t even remember how long. His memory gets more and more hazy as the years pass by.

There’s one habit he’s kept though; but it’s become such a common action for him that he doesn’t even register it as from _before_ anymore.

He’s in his private quarters on the Finalizer, preparing for battle. The scavenger is coming for him, he knows. He can feel her through their bond. The closer she gets, the more he feels his skin starting to prickle, like some strange static electricity running up and down his spine. He can sometimes hear whispered thoughts in the back of his head, which he can’t quite make out, but they seem foreign to him. These days, those thoughts always seem to be laced with sadness.

Standing in front of the mirror, he weaves his unruly black curls into multiple French braids. It’s his favorite hairstyle under his mask. When he’s done he runs his hands over his braids and turns away from the mirror with a shuddering sigh.

He’s losing his focus again. He should be gearing up for battle but all he can think of is the feel of her fingers on his face. _Just a ghost of a memory now._

He doesn’t want to fight her anymore. They’ve gone through this too many times. Sometimes she wins, sometimes he does, but neither can bring themselves to go for the kill. And still they have to keep going. It’s the way of their world now.

When the battle is over, the bodies are piled high on both sides. Even in his current state, he registers that the bodies are a lot higher on _his_ side. The world starts to grow fuzzy when he hears a shriek ring out-- _in his head? In the real world?_ He can’t really tell the difference anymore.

“KYLO!!” Rey screams. She falls to her knees beside him and glares at the gaping blaster wound in his chest. _This wasn’t the way it was supposed to go_ , Rey thinks desperately. She pulls Kylo’s head into her lap, releases the switch of his mask and pulls it off. Though Kylo can’t feel much of anything anymore, he does feel her hand on his head, tracing the braids in much the same way he did so many hours ago.

He lets his consciousness drift into their bond, drowning in her pleading thoughts. _Stay with me! Hold on! Please, Kylo!_

_\---_

**The fourth time, he’s 33, and he braids Rey’s hair.**

 

He wakes up after a soft knock on the door. “Master Ben, please do get up. It is about time to begin the preparations!”

“Relax, Threepio”, Ben says. “It’s not even 7 AM!”

With a groan he gets up, though that’s just to put up a show for C-3PO. The minute he woke up and realized what day it was, his heart started hammering away in his chest.

“Did Rey sleep well?” He asks.

“BB-8 seems to think so. She’s been up for 2 hours. General Organa and Miss Jessika are tending to her now.”

Ben walks over to the fresher and steps under the water. His mind wanders to Rey. _Sweetheart, how are you?_ He sends through their bond.

Rey’s excitement bubbles up to him immediately: _Ben! I miss you. I need you to do something for me._

Ben smiles. _Anything._

_I need you to come over here._

Ben starts to frown. _We’re not supposed to see each other. It’s bad luck._

_BENJAMIN SOLO. With everything we’ve gone through, I’ll take my chances. I need you to come over to braid my hair for my wedding!_

Ben quietly slips into Rey’s room, and finds her standing in front of the plate glass window, alone. When he beholds her, he stops dead in his tracks. She looks like a dream, tan skin covered by a subtle white silk gown, loose brown hair falling over her shoulder.

Rey looks almost self-conscious under Ben’s awe-struck gaping.

“I asked Jess to bring me something,” Rey says, and points to a small basket. It is filled with small, light blue flowers. “Can you work with that?”

Ben’s face breaks out in a grin and he winks at Rey. “I might be able to manage something.”

\---

**The fifth time, he’s 39, and he braids his sons’ hair.**

 

Sometimes, when Ben looks at them, his breath catches in his throat, and he’s overwhelmed by feelings of guilt and unworthiness. Guilt for the man who will never have the chance to see these two boys, to roughhouse with them and tell them stories of grand old adventures. Unworthiness for all the pain and suffering he has caused in his life. _How could the universe allow him this much happiness?_

Thankfully he can always depend on Rey in these moments. She’ll brush up against his mind, soothing the tempest there with her light and her natural calm.

He’s glad the boys have her temperament and not his--all they got from him are their ears and their unruly, raven black long curls.

“Ani! Han! Hurry up or Master Luke will start training without you!” he calls.

He hears the twins bouncing up the hallway towards him. At least they’re already dressed in their training outfits.

Rey hobbles after them, round belly protruding grotesquely. She’s already exhausted and it’s not even 9 AM yet. Ben makes a mental note to pamper her today. They won’t have much longer before the broken nights start up again and he wants her to be fit and happy.

He brushes each boy’s hair and braids their hair in the same fashion his mother used to do when he was little. He didn’t miss the wetness in his mother’s eyes the first time she saw the twins with braids.

He can never, ever, make up for all the wrongs he’s done her, but at least he can give her this. It might be a small thing, but it’s all he has right now.

Someday, maybe, all these small things will amount to something significant.

\---

**The first time, he’s 71, and his daughter braids his hair.**

 

Ben is confused. He’s been looking for Rey all morning, but somehow she keeps eluding him.

He’s starting to get frantic, walking around, calling her name. But still nothing. People come up to him and speak to him, but he doesn’t register what they are saying, nor does he register who they are. They seem vaguely familiar. Still, he feels lost without _her_.

He tries to remember where and when he last saw Rey, maybe that will show him where to start looking, but everything is so hazy and _why is that, anyway_?

From the corner of his eye, he can see a shape approaching him. He turns to it and breathes a sigh of relief. “There you are, sweetheart,” he says with a smile.

She looks radiant. Her brown hair is done up in the customary three buns, her freckles sparkle on her cheeks. But her eyes are red-rimmed and spilling over with tears.

“Rey,” Ben says, alarmed. “Why are you crying?”

“You have to come with me now, daddy.”

Ben blinks in confusion and draws back.

“Daddy it’s me, Padme. You have to come with me. It’s time.”

He lets her lead him into a room. There are several other people here, all dressed in black. Seeing all those black clad figures gives him a chill, a ghost of a memory almost coming back to him, but blissfully slinking back into the shadows again.

Padme gently nudges him into a chair and starts running a comb through his hair. The feeling soothes him, and as his daughter starts braiding his long, silverblack curls, he calms down enough to reach out to Rey through their bond. _Sweetheart, where are you? I miss you so._

All of a sudden, he feels her soft fingers trailing his cheek, running her fingers over the scar she gave him, as she always does. Ben's face breaks into a relieved smile as he hears her beautiful voice ring softly in his head.

_I’m here, baby. I’ll always be right here._


End file.
